Bass-ackwards
by scousemuz1k
Summary: Six months after extracting a promise from Gibbs to trust him and not leave him out, Tony's finding living with the consequences a bit difficult.


**AN: No Ellie, she's away at F LETC, simply because as we're that bit behind in the UK, I've still not seen enough of her yet to attempt to write her. **

**Six months after 'The Wife Didn't Do It'.**

Bass-ackwards

by scousemuz1k

A bullet ricocheted off the sheet metal wall behind the two agents, who ducked instinctively as it flew off at an angle, with a mean, insectish whine.

"Damn," Tim muttered, "we need to be somewhere else."

"You're not wrong. Crawl a bit further along, see where the wall's wood? I'll cover you, make sure you don't get shot in the butt like poor old Toby did, then you can do the same for me."

Tim grinned wryly. "I wouldn't like that."

"Me neither," Tony agreed. "Go." As Tim began the wary shuffle, keeping low behind the packing crates, he heard the senior agent mutter, "This is _so_ bass-ackwards..." By the time he reached the better protection of the wooden wall, Tim had worked out what he meant. He looked back as he completed his manoeuvre to see Tony still scanning the room, looking out for the bad guys climbing up on some of the stacked crates that filled the place, to get a better vantage point.

"I'm done, come on," he hissed, and took over the concentrated vigil, looking especially at the areas he thought Tony had been paying attention to. As the other agent began his crawl, a figure rose up exactly where Tony had thought he would, aiming a semi-automatic, and Tim didn't wait for him to fire first. There was a yell and a crash as the man tumbled down, followed by cursing and moaning.

"Nice," DiNozzo said as he reached his friend's position.

"Shouldn't I have killed him?"

"If you had the time to be that accurate, maybe. But that caterwauling's more distracting to his friends than it is to us, and as long as they don't shoot him to shut him up, he'll be interrogated later, could be useful. Where the hell is our back-up?"

There was nothing they could do but keep alert for the next attack. Without relaxing for a moment, Tim ventured, "It is weird, isn't it? After this morning?"

Tony grimaced. "Oh yeah."

NCISNCISNCIS

"_It's just a protocol escort duty," Gibbs told Tony. "SecNav suspects one of her assistants is not as upright as he appears. All I'm doing is observing who he might have contact with other than the guy he's supposed to meet. Just me, as more than one escort might spook whoever he shouldn't be meeting. As far as SecNav's concerned it's need to know – wouldn't do for everyone to think someone in her department's bent – or could be to minimise the embarrassment if she's wrong. So you don't know. But that's where I'll be, and yeah, I'll leave my phone on."_

"_Sure, Boss," Tony said gravely, all the time thinking inside 'this is SO crazy...' "We'll go check our lead. Call me if you need me."_

NCISNCISNCIS

_They headed for a wholesale distribution centre in Arlington where they'd been told strange activity went on at night. As in, their young sailor informant had told them, too many people for a night shift in a place that didn't have one anyway. They'd check it out in daylight, and come back later if they thought there was anything in it. (The young man was worried about being dragged into something dishonest, had confided in a friend in Naval Intelligence, and Josh Cooper had sent him straight to Tony.)_

"_Be careful what you wish for," the SFA told Tim ruefully, "or in my case, demanded." Tim, driving, raised an eyebrow and waited. _

"_It's happened what... maybe twenty times now," Tony went on, counting off on his fingers. "If he has to go anywhere without us, he always lets me know where he's going – it's like he's a teenager reporting to Dad. Sometimes, he's told me he couldn't say where he was going, but he'd leave his phone on and hit speed dial if he ran into trouble, track him if he wasn't back in two hours or whatever. Twice he told me he couldn't tell me, and told me anyway, and to use my own judgement on whether to follow him or not."_

"_One of those times you didn't, and walked around like your pants were on fire for twelve hours until he came back."_

"_How – oh yeah, I kept telling you to go home and you wouldn't. I wanted to tell you – didn't want to be doing to you what he'd been doing to me..."_

"_It didn't faze me."_

"_I knew you knew."_

"_I know – DON'T START!" _

_Tony just grinned back at him. "Which was why the next time, you tagged along anyway." He thought for a moment, then his smile disappeared. "It's NOT what I wanted."_

"_What, me tagging along? You mean the 'need-to-know spreads too far?"_

"_Hey! No, you know by now that's not what I meant. We're a team. I... I mean, that he doesn't have to explain himself... he's been under orders every time; it was never HIS need-to-know, and that's the only one I'm worried about."_

_Tim nodded. "That only happened once... he wanted to charge off on his own. The blackmail thing. You said he had that look in his eyes, and I looked hard and saw what you've been seeing all this time."_

"_That one. The info came from Gibbs' old Marine mate, not from orders. The guy begged him not to tell anyone and just help him. But he came to me. To us. That's all I wanted, still all I want. Not all this 'can I borrow the car, Dad, and I'll be home before midnight, honest'. This morning's only one incident... I feel embarrassed that he feels he has to do this. He doesn't have to be nice... like he's permanently apologising without saying as much. There's no need..."_

_Tim nodded again. "You haven't forgotten WHY you want it, have you? Six months ago you were damn near killed, and the whole business would have driven a wedge between you and the Boss that split the team – and your friendship – if such a seriously weird relationship could be called that – "_

"_Ta, I think."_

" – _apart for good – if you weren't so oddly forgiving. HE hasn't forgotten. OK, maybe he's over-compensating a bit, but he means well. He's trying to make sure the wedge is gone."_

"_Yeah..." Tony sighed, and there was silence for a while, as both agents thought round the subject. "So... am I being a spoilt brat? I ask him for something, and then when I get it, it isn't what I want? Am I trying to throw my rattle out of the crib?"_

_Tim frowned. He was struggling to find the words for what he was thinking; Thom E Gemcity would have written it five times before he was happy, but he did know one thing. "Of all the things I COULD call you, Tony, spoiled brat isn't one of them. I think – oh, this is the place. Er... we can talk some more later if you like."_

NCISNCISNCIS

He hadn't really meant in these circumstances; but it was keeping their minds off the fact that the night-time people weren't playing by the rules, and had come back in daylight; what was more, when Seaman Keyes had said too many people, he hadn't been exaggerating. They'd entered cautiously, but been unaware that the place had cameras installed; they'd been spotted, and here they were, pinned down and seriously outnumbered.

"Bass-ackwards, like I said," Tony went on, still scanning the room from floor, what there was of it, to ceiling, what they could see of it past the stacks of crates. "We worry about watching Gibbs' six, and end up like this. Where's the Boss when you need him?"

"Mmm. When I said talk later, I didn't mean like this. "

"They're probably trying to raise enough back-up to tackle a large number, it's no use just sending in one patrol unit."

"They could be clearing the area in case there's a fire-fight," Tim agreed. "We just have to hang on until –"

Gunfire erupted from above their heads, and they had to scramble for deeper cover and flatten themselves behind the crates. Tony rolled onto his back and took out the two guys he could see in the one o'clock position, trusting Tim to cover eleven o'clock in case it was a two pronged attack; but Tim's gun was silent.

Tony's blood ran cold; he was afraid to look behind him. If Tim was dead, he didn't want to know how he'd failed the man who'd always be his Probie. If Tim were alive he had to help him – but turn his back on the gunmen? Now he had both fields to cover, and they could come through the middle as well...

Two more, to the right. Tony shot up from behind his crate just long enough to down them without compunction, then swung, knowing he was going to be too late, towards the figure just appearing in the centre. Tim's gun barked from behind him, and if it weren't for the fact that DiNozzos didn't, he might have passed out from relief. Six so far... bloodbath...he'd pay in nightmares... but his friend was alive.

He scanned the roof level again; no more attackers so far. They'd clearly given them something to think about, but it was only going to be a lull. The first man Tim had downed was still moaning somewhere... Tony took a chance and turned back to his friend. The young agent was still determinedly looking over his friend's shoulder, watching his six, although his gun was wavering slightly. His right hand was clamped round his leg, just above his knee, where the blood flow was messy, but, Tony hoped, not too copious.

"McGee..." Tony yanked his tie off and began to wrap it hard round Tim's leg. "That's good... McJanus..."

"McJanus...? Oh, god of... January. Eyes in... the back of his head..."

"You're the eyes in the back of mine, right now, Tim. You get so you don't think you're gonna be able to shoot them yourself, you tell me."

"Sure..." but the younger man's eyes were beginning to get glassy even as Tony tried to stem the blood-flow, and he was going to have to turn round again. The situation couldn't remain as it was; he'd have to do something.

"Gonna make a run for the door, McGee, draw them after me. Play dead. Back-up should arrive in time to find you..."

"Don't be crazy... "

"What else can I do? Can't just sit here and let you be a target –"

Tim grabbed a handful of Tony's jacket like he had no intention of letting go any time ever. "And you won't be? What if that's the next tactic? They've had enough of losing men so they just sit there until you break cover... you're not going."

"Good advice, McGee," a voice said from above them. "There could still be a straggler or two."

"Boss!" Tony's shout was high pitched with relief. He subsided, and rolled his eyes at Tim. "Bass –"

"Ackwards," Tim finished, and slumped. He'd leave Tony to Gibbs now.

NCISNCISNCIS

"You asked if you were being a spoilt brat," Tim said sleepily.

Tony sat up in the bedside chair. "Oh, hey, McNap, how long have you been awake?"

"On and off... drifting... I don't know. I feel peaceful... been thinking."

"You _look_ peaceful. All things considered you don't look bad."

Tim smiled lazily. "I don't have bad reactions to painkillers; so I'm not too proud to knock them back if I need them. I feel fine."

"That's good – although Abby's on her way over, so brace yourself. Sarah will be here by tonight too, I can see them arguing over who's going to take you home and take care of you."

Tim groaned. "Can I come to your place and hide?"

"Sure... just say the word. But you might enjoy the girly pampering once you get used to it. Um... you said you'd been thinking..."

"Yeah." Tim opened his eyes properly, and winced as he tried to pull himself up a bit. Tony gave him the control for raising the bed, and waited patiently, then piled Tim's pillows up. "I said you're not a spoilt brat. You asked him because you needed to. If you hadn't, you'd have quit. If he hadn't agreed, you'd have quit. You needed to be trusted, right? So you had to do something." He felt as if his thoughts were coming out in no particular order, which his McBrain wasn't used to, it didn't compute, he and hoped he was getting it right. "_He_ had to do something. And it's not something you've ever had to do before, either of you. Bass-ackwards again – I mean, not like today, when he... we... "

His train of thought derailed for a moment, and Tony finished for him. "When he was explaining why he didn't need us to watch his six, and ended up watching ours..."

Tim frowned. Yes, that was about it. Now, what... oh, yes. "I mean... him being accountable to you."

"Feels weird."

"I know. But what if he decided to just go back to his old self?"

"Ah."

They both thought for a while, Tony contemplating bleakly how unbearable a return to how things had been before the Childs case would be, Tim fighting his way out of the sedative.

"What I'm saying is... it's alien, and you're both having to adjust. But you're family. You'll do it for each other, and gradually it'll work out."

"If he's making the effort, so should I, you mean. OK, McSensible, I can take that on board." He paused. "So... you want me to tell the Doc you're awake, or doze some more?"

"I guess... I want to know when I can go home..."

"I'll go find him." He got up, and squeezed Tim's shoulder before turning to leave. "Thanks, Mc – Tim."

Whilst the doctor, and Ducky, were telling Tim sternly that he could leave tomorrow morning, _'a wheelchair for any distance, Timothy, crutches for short hops only... and you may return to desk duty when I say so and not a moment before...'_ Tony was being regaled by an irate Gibbs, with the story of _his_ morning's work.

"Going alone was best as it happens – turns out he thought one escort would be easier to slip than two. I just let him go, and followed him. Traitor, my Aunt Mary Jane... he was sneaking off to see a colleague – a twenty years younger, married colleague... wasted damn morning. Except I got to join the rescue party of course." He looked closely at Tony. "You look like crap, DiNozzo; six guys downed, four of them still alive, does that make you feel any better?"

Tony smiled; a warm sort of feeling came over him, and he felt better than he had all week. Gibbs knew what he needed to hear, and was taking the time to say it. "Yeah, Boss, it does. Just kept shooting, didn't have an option... didn't have to like it."

"One's fit for questioning already – gonna learn a lot about what they were up to and who they worked for. Ya done good, the two of you. Gonna go for coffee... you want some?"At Tony's nod, he began to head for the door, then paused. "The other thing... I know it feels bass-ackwards... but we're getting there, aren't we?"

"Yeah, Boss, reckon we are."

**AN: I wanted to leave it at the point where Gibbs had arrived, but it seemed a bit short. Now the rest of it seems a bit like waffle, and not the edible sort.**


End file.
